


Wicked Game

by amluv



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amluv/pseuds/amluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always a game within the game</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The smell of overly sweet perfume permeated the air around her. After months of standing under the oppressive fluorescent lighting and listening to the endless prattling of entitled uptown socialite wannabes, Sameen Shaw was ready to eat a bullet. She decided that if hell did truly did in fact exist; being a cosmetics sales associate in a department store was surely it. 

The more Shaw observed what was going on around her, the more she began to question whether or not the sacrifices that had been made or will be made, was worth this. Was this what they were fighting for? Hiding out in the open, pretending to be ordinary people in order to just stay alive? Was giving up everything they did and/or were, worth this empty existence? Was giving up everything they did and/or were, worth it just so people could indulge in wanton consumerism to avoid the fact that they pretty much just sucked as human beings? None of it seemed to matter if this was the end result of all that sacrifice.

A familiar fake cough echoed in Shaw’s ear, Glen. Glen was a dick and usually Shaw would handle a dick like Glen the way she pretty much handled anything, with extreme violence but since engaging in, quote, “uncivilized outburst of anger,” was forbidden, she was forced to deal with dicks like Glen by using “her words.” In other words, Glen didn’t know just how lucky he was to still have his teeth.

“Sameen, there have be a few complaints that you have be less than courteous to some of our customers. I don’t have to remind you that most of your salary is contingent on commission and as such maybe you should think about how much better you would be able to achieve that if you put out a little more honey and less vinegar.” Glen said as he flamboyantly gesticulated toward her face.

“And for god’s sake, would it kill you to smile every once and awhile. With a face like that, you should be making a killing on commissions. You know how much I hate to be a hard ass but we’re here to help our customers find their inner swans and before we can do that, we, ourselves, must first find our own swan. Have I made myself clear?”

Shaw sighed, “Put out honey, smile, be a swan. Got it. We good?”

Glen let out a long, exaggerated sigh of his own and gestured over toward the make-up counter, “Looks like your regular is here, maybe you should try to parlay whatever it is you do to get her coming back for more on other customers. You would make a killing, girlfriend.” Glen encouraged, adding a sharp finger snap as if to add extra emphasis to his words.

“I dunno Glen, that one there really likes my vinegar.” She replied before giving him a little wink as she turned around to make her way to the make-up counter.

An involuntary curl of her lips graced her face as she eyed the striking figure leaning over the cosmetics counter. The black dress she wore hugged her reedy frame in a way that could best be described as borderline obscene. The length was cut off just before her lower thighs, giving full view of long, well muscled legs. Loose curls of an earthy brown hung just below her face as she peered down to look into the case, and well toned arms braced on each side of the glass box to support her weight. A light hitch caught in Shaw’s breath and it made her gait a lot slower than she had intended as if the action could prolong her unobstructed appraisal of Root’s form.

She finally made her way over to the case taking care to be as casual in her approach and mindful of her surroundings as to not give away anything that would bring unwanted attention their way. After a moment longer than what seemed necessary, the woman in the black dress finally looked up and acknowledged her presence.

“Hey Sam, miss me?” Root said as she gave her patent lopsided smile that oozed with the promise of something but none of the delivery of it. “Root?” Shaw elongated the single syllable, dragging the sound out like a jagged note in a song.

“Sorry for cutting out on you like that but things got a little more complicated after you left and well I kind of had to take a few sick days to recover. But I did come bearing gifts and I know how much you like getting presents. You’re going to receive a package approximately 9:20PM at this address.” Root said as she smoothly slipped Shaw a piece of paper. “When you open the package, follow the instructions inside the box.” 

“Package. 9:20. Read instructions. Got it. Anything else?”

Root leaned over the counter, “Yeah, I can really use a manicure. I have a hot date tonight and I do want to look my best. I was thinking of a new nail polish. What do you have that says, ‘it’s going to hurt but you’re going to love every moment of it?’”

There was this sultriness in Root’s voice that always underlined her shameless flirting and Shaw always did her best to ignore but all she could muster was a half committed scowl thrown in her direction. “You should come with a warning label, you know that right?”

“You say the sweetest things Sam.” Root said silkily.  
“Whatever. Do me a favor and buy a crap load of this junk so I can make a half decent commission so this assclown will get off my tits. And if you say a single word referencing my tits, I will stab you with my stiletto.”

“Your wish is my command Sam. Don’t forget, 9:20. I promise it’ll be worth your while.” And with a wink and sly smile, Root made her exit leaving Shaw in a familiar haze of annoyed arousal.


	2. Chapter 2

Shaw arrived to the address written on the slip of paper that Root had given her in the department store at exactly 9:20. She didn’t know what she was expecting but it sure wasn’t sitting in the front lobby of a five star hotel in downtown New York City. It didn’t take long for a slender kid with dirty blond hair dressed in full bike messenger regalia to approach her.

“Are you Sam?” He asked as he stood before her.  
“Yeah.” She replied curtly as she eyed him suspiciously.  
“Cool. This is for you.” He pulled out a large, beige, padded envelope out of his messenger bag handed, it to and her then walked away.

To be honest, she had grown weary of the whole Cloak and Dagger bit. But it was Root and her hyper-vigilance with regard to all things Samaritan is what has kept them alive this long so she begrudging obliged her in her paranoia but only begrudgingly. However, it was all very annoying and she was beginning to suspect that Root was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of her in some way.

Shaw ripped open the envelope to find a black clutch purse and inside of it was a keycard for one of the rooms in the hotel, a set of what appeared to be car keys, and another slip of paper instructing her to go to one of the suites on the twentieth floor. Because of past experiences where Root had her enter an unknown site, she kept a firm hand on the firearm she had hidden in her the black waistband of her trousers underneath her leather jacket as she waited for one of the elevators to reach the ground floor. After several beats the doors to the elevator opened and Shaw sidestepped the people getting off, most who were well heeled and wore clothes that screamed wealth. She caught her own reflection in one of the many mirrors that adorned the interior of the lift. Clad in her all black tactical gear, though very utilitarian, made her stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this. Not that she minded, it just seemed to defeat the purpose of running a stealth OP.

Shaw just shrugged the thought off and let her mind drift as she waited for the elevator to reach the twentieth floor. Her thoughts drifted to the earlier part of the day when Root showed up wearing that ridiculous dress. Her mouth suddenly went dry as the memory of the way it had looked on her body. She thought about what it would have been like to peel Root out of it, well not so much peel her out of it than to ripped it off completely and take command of the soft curves that hid beneath.

The very thought taking possession of Root’s body stirred something deep, dark, and delectable inside of Shaw that was quickly quailed as the words, “I have a hot date…” inconveniently lingered in the back of her mind. Surely Root had only said that just to get a rise out of her. Given the work they did, it didn’t leave much time for anything else much less dating. That’s when it occurred to Shaw that she didn’t really know what Root got up to when she wasn’t clocking time at The Machine’s behest. In that passing thought, Shaw realized she didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about the woman outside of running down numbers and that was a very sobering thought.  
The ding of the elevator announcing the arrival to her destination brought Shaw out of her musings of Root. As she stepped off of the elevator, Shaw immediately withdrew her firearm as she made her way down the corridor. When she reached the room, she pulled out the keycard and opened the door very carefully and proceeded to do a quick sweep of the room. Satisfied that she was all alone, she headed back into the bedroom where she had seen a black garment bag sitting next to what looked like a box of shoes. There was a white envelope with her name written in neat, elegant script.

She just let out a long drawn out sigh as the idea of this being some overly convoluted, messed up game that Root came up with to waste her time. With great reluctance, Shaw peeled away the gold seal binding the edges of the envelope and pulled out the card it contained. There was a note written on it in the same elegant script:

“Dearest Sameen,

I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of picking this out for you. I had to…guess as to the size, I could only work from memory but I hope it doesn’t fit too snug. That goes for the shoes as well. Please meet me at club Cielo at 10:30. The GPS coordinates are programmed into the car parked on P5 of the hotel, just click the button on the keychain provided in your package. I’m really looking forward to seeing you.

-R

ps

There’s a bag of “goodies” under the bed, would you be so kind as to bring that along. It’s going to come in pretty handy later.”

As she read the note, she could tell with the flourishing of every single letter Root had that smug smirk on her face. The women could be so ridiculously shameless sometimes, Shaw thought as she rolled her eyes and she tossed the card aside.

She unzipped the garment bag and pulled out a sleek, black, silk halter top with a low cut bust line and asymmetrical hemline. She had to admit, it was definitely her style, but it wasn’t until she opened the shoebox that a full-blown smile had replaced her usual surly sneer. After all, a girl can never go wrong with a pair of red Manolo Blahnik sandals with stiletto heels. Again the idea that Root could know so much about her and she so little about Root caused a strange little prickle of irritation to needle Shaw. But now wasn’t the time to think about such things because it was closely approaching 10:00.

Shaw quickly changed out of her tact gear and into the outfit that Root had provided for her all the while trying not to read anything into the very expensive “gifts” she had given her or the cryptic nature of this meeting. There more than a few occasions she’d mention how The Machine would have her do things just before she actually had to do them and how It liked it when she worked out the bigger picture on her on. So it seemed fairly reasonable to Shaw that Root would adopt The Machine’s methods when it came to working with the Irrelevant side.

 

She placed her discarded gear in a pile on the bed and retrieved the mystery bag from beneath the bed. There was a slight heft to the mid-sized duffle bag that immediately piqued Shaw’s curiosity as she slid the zipper down and took a quick peek inside and once again an easy smile curved her lips and she let out a slow whistle, “Oh, it’s gonna to be that kind of party, huh?”

She put all of her gear inside the duffle bag and double-checked that her thigh holster was secured before heading out of the door to make her way to the parking garage. The only sound to be heard was the clicking of the heels of her very expensive shoes against the asphalt of the parking lot echoing through out the empty structure. She pulled out the keychain from the clutch and hit the alarm switch. Shaw followed the sound and what she found stopped her dead in her tracks, a slate grey Maserati GranTurismo. She gave herself a moment just to admire the sheer beauty of the fine machine and then another to run a hand along the curves of its gorgeous finish.

It wasn’t until she finally opened the door to the driver’s side and slid into the driver’s seat that she let out an uncharacteristic squeal of unadulterated glee. Shaw placed the keys into the ignition, turned it with a flick of her wrists and listened as the glorious machine roared into life. She gave the gas a quick pump and relished the sound and feel of a V8 engine that purred like an indolent kitten. If it was Root’s intention to thoroughly ruin her, Shaw thought, then she succeeded in a spectacular way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick update before the end of the year.

Shaw arrived to the club fifteen minutes before the designated time. She told herself it was so she could do a bit of reconnaissance before hand and not because she basically tried to break the sound barrier in a hundred and thirty thousand plus dollar car on the streets of New York City. As she walked through the doors, her ears were immediately assaulted by the booming from the heavy bass pouring out of the speakers. The scene itself was not that much different from a night not that long ago when three very beautiful, very capable, very kick ass women joined forces to snake out a suspected serial killer. A small smile tugged at her lips thinking about the night she, Carter and Morgan shared drinks and danced in hopes of drawing Ian out into the open. It was one of the few times she could ever recall having a genuinely fun night out with people.

 

The feeling of warm air at the base of her neck brought her out of revelry as a familiar scent flooded her nostrils, Root.

 

“My, but you do clean up well, Sameen. It would seem I guessed correctly, about the dress that is.” The taller woman practically purred into her ear.

 

Shaw could barely stifle the quick intake of breath as she felt the slight press of Root’s body against her back. She made her way to turn around and just as she was about to fix her with the most dangerous glare she could muster, the sight before her stopped Shaw dead in her tracks.

 

Her mind went completely blank the moment she got a proper look at Root garbed in a strapless, blood red dress cut so short, it left very little to the imagination. The cut of the dress had somehow managed to make already impossibly long legs seem like an endless highway leading up to creamy thighs that begged to be bitten and bruised. Shaw let her gaze drag further up, allowing her eyes to drink in every single inch of Root’s body. Gone were the bouncy, loose curls and subtle make up and all the other things that made Root beguiling enough to mask the predator lay underneath that easy going smile she always wore. All of that was replaced by something that didn’t bother to hide the danger that lurked within, from the sharp edges of bone straight hair to the starkness of pale skin against the backdrop of coal black mascara and ruby red lipstick. Whoever this creature was, it definitely wasn’t Root.

 

“Eyes up here Marine.” Root snapped at her, red lips twisted up into a self-satisfying smirk.

 

“I, uh…thought you had a date tonight.” She managed to mumble, sweeping back a lock of her own dark hair out of her eyes while trying to find some semblance of composure.

 

“I do, and this is it. Well sort of. See that lummox sitting at the end of the bar with the bulging muscles?” She asked as she placed a gentle hand on the small of Shaw’s back to direct her attention to the end of the bar.

 

“Uh, yeah. So?” Shaw responded as she took a step further to put some distance between her and her companion.

 

“That’s Yuri Karkaroff, an up and comer in the local Latvian mob. Our friend Yuri there is in charge of the organization’s prostitution ring. Among many of Yuri’s duties, he is in charge of the trafficking of girls, as young as ten, from Eastern Europe to New York. The only thing I know so far is that there’s a freighter carrying a box full of girls headed somewhere around the Port Authority in the next twenty-four hours but we don’t know where around the Port Authority or which freighter the girls will be on. So we’re just gonna have to get that information from Mr. Karkaroff…by any means necessary.”

 

“Well that explains the goodie bag. So what’s the play here, are you just gonna randomly chat him up or something or…” But before she could finish, Root cut her off, “Won’t have to, he already hired me. Oh did I mention that today’s identity is a high-end escort? Anyway, lucky for us Yuri’s tastes run a bit older and more…specific. While I’m busy getting him worked up, in about ten minutes I’m gonna need you to come over and offer a bit of a distraction while I slip him a little party favor. Then you bring the car around to meet us out front and then Mr. Karkaroff will have the pleasure of our company in a very intimate setting.”  Shaw was slightly taken aback by the coldness in Root’s voice as she relayed the last part of the plan. It made her realize that she had forgotten that Root had been a ruthless killer long before becoming apart of Harold’s island of misfit toys. It was just another reminder that she hardly knew the woman at all.

 

“Cheer up Shaw, we’re about to have a lot of fun together.” The ex-hacker said with a wink as she sauntered off in the direction of the bar.

 

Whatever wave of confusion Shaw had felt earlier faded quickly in the wake of the watching Root make her exit. If there was one thing that was consistent about Root is the fact that she definitely knew how to show a girl a really good time.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going but I hope you'll stick around for the ride anyway.


End file.
